I HATE waiting. I am impatient, probably with a short attention span. My wife will say: “Don’t tell Ian long stories!”

I get frustrated in the supermarket when I discover that they have 12 checkouts and only three of them are staffed. I just don’t enjoy waiting – for anything.

A woman arrived for her doctor’s appointment and watched patient after patient disappear into the surgery while she was still sitting there.

About an our later she got up and went to the receptionist and said, “I know my appointment was for one o’clock. Can you tell me if that was a.m. or p.m.?” Waiting is a part of life.

I find it fascinating that when Jesus left his friends, he told them to wait. They did not have to wait long, because one week later there was an event which marked the birthday of the Church as we know it – what we now know today as Pentecost or Whitsun.

It started with a bang. Those friends who had taken to hiding themselves suddenly threw off their fear and stood up for what they believed.

It was a lively affair. They were fired up so much that many onlookers thought they were drunk.

For those early Christians being together was a joyous affair. It still should be, but I am not always convinced that it is.

One Sunday morning, a visitor to a strange town was looking for a church. He saw a policeman and asked him for directions to the nearest one.

The stranger thanked the policeman for the information and was about to walk off when he turned and asked the policeman: “Why did you recommend that church?”

The policeman smiled and replied: “I’m not a church man myself, but the people who come out of that church are the happiest looking folk in town. I thought that would be the kind of church you should go to.”

It is certainly the kind of church that might attract me.